Baseball wife
by DeannaReadX
Summary: Derek didn't know why the hell he'd allowed himself to be dragged into something like this again, he really hadn't wanted it; he hated social outings and he didn't know why they had to leave the house to do the whole 'pack bonding' thing. But apparently it was 'good for the lungs'. And that meant a pack baseball day in a field somewhere about three miles out from Beacon Hills.


Just something that's been sitting in my 'to be finished' folder for over eight months now. I had difficulty finding a cut off point, and I'm a bit of a worrier lately that my writing is getting a bit mediocre again - but I think this is alright.

Hope you enjoy, and no, there will be no sequels or carry ons, this is just one of my smaller, fluffier little pieces that I wrote mostly to cure my own writers block.

Let me know what you think.

Deannaxxx

P.S I swear to god I'm working on the new chapter of 'something I need' but I have my A2 exams over the next couple of months, so its going a lot slower now. I'm gonna have to get as much writing done as possible over the summer before I start uni, so expect a bunch of updates and tied up loose ends then, okay? Thank you, as always, for being so lovely and patient.

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Derek didn't know why the hell he'd allowed himself to be dragged into something like this again, he really hadn't wanted it, he hated social outings and he didn't know why they had to_ leave the house_ to do the whole 'pack bonding' thing. But apparently it was 'good for the lungs' and also... Stiles had been winging at him. And everyone knew that when Stiles winged at Derek and pulled out the puppy eyes, he got whatever the hell he wanted. And that meant a pack baseball day in a field somewhere about three miles out from Beacon Hills.

It wasn't that Derek wasn't good at Baseball, it's just that he didn't want to play it. Not anymore anyway. It was a past time that stung, something that was still sore and it belonged to his memories of his old family, not his new one. Peter was better at it, stronger. Surprisingly. He seemed to be okay with it, excited even.

So they had brought three crates of food, a huge supply of water, lemonade and beer in the coolers, and four cars including Peter's new Transporter which was like something you saw on tour with the Black Eyed Peas. And Derek was sat aside with Lydia, who 'didn't want to embarrass everyone with her wicked skills'. Allison generally just hated sports when it wasn't hunting so she had claimed that her pale skin needed some vitamin D. Erica was still healing from the alpha attack last month which had pretty much broken every bone in her body, so she was under strict orders from Derek not to move past walking and sitting. Peter's new arm candy was also sat with them. Everyone only just tolerated her really, it wasn't personal, she was just very obnoxious and loud... louder than Lydia. He felt like the soccer wife if he was being honest. Well, the baseball wife, but whatever.

The thing that really took him by surprise however, was that he didn't much care. It was a beautiful, swelteringly hot day, he was sat in a ridiculously comfortable deckchair with people that he liked, he had an ice cold bottle of beer, and he got to watch his human boyfriend run around sweaty all day, beating the crap out of his betas. If he was being honest, which was actually a much more common occurrence of late – although he would never admit it to anyone out loud – this day wasn't so bad.

"Derek, c'mere and stop being such a sour puss, I want to Instagram this," Lydia pouted at him, softening her stunning green eyes on purpose. It didn't work on him because he wasn't attracted to her in the slightest, but the fear of getting a Lydia slap across the head made him scowl and lean sideways slightly, Allison on the other side of her. Erica left her chair, moving carefully so that she was in the frame too, deliberately pressing a kiss to Derek's stubble for the photo. He let out a huff of resigned breath, chest filling with a reluctant warm feeling before he smiled as charmingly as he could. He may as well make it count, especially if it was going on the internet for the world to see.

Somehow, Lydia had used her remarkably brilliant brain, to alter the camera on her phone so that it ignored the glare of werewolf eyes. She claimed that capturing moments of life was important, because 'you're never going to get them back once they're done'. He thought it was ridiculous, and that was what your brain was for, but he obliged because it was Lydia, and even begrudgingly, everyone loved her.

"Yay. See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Is there any lemonade in that trunk? I'm going to start breaking out if I sweat too much," she said, pressing a few buttons to upload it to the internet before putting her phone on the case beside her and grinning at Derek when he handed her what she'd asked for. He kept a wary eye on Erica as she settled back down.

"You know, I miss baseball, I used to play it with my dad. Until he realised I was growing breasts and an attitude of course," she sighed, tilting her head to the side as she popped the top off the bottle effortlessly without even breaking a nail, and looking out at their fellow pack mates. Derek raised an eyebrow, looking sideways at her as he relaxed back in his chair again, stretching his legs out a little more.

"What did your breasts have to do with baseball?" he asked, thinking it a stupid reason to decide that your child couldn't play sports anymore.

"He thought they made me fragile or something. Bullcrap of course, it was just because he didn't want to have his friends playing a game with a woman, and losing to them. And, you know, there's the whole thing about accidentally grabbing something and all that," she explained nonchalantly, taking a swig of her drink and adjusting her arm so it was getting more attention from the glaring sun.

"Well I think it's stupid, women should be able to..." and Lexi, Peter's girlfriend, was off on a feminist rant. Derek half-listened, even agreeing with most of what she was saying. It wasn't that he didn't believe in it, it was just that it was sort of a broken record lately, she was a bit radical with it all, so he wasn't in the mood for it.

It was an hour later and getting closer to the morning hour of eleven, when he was jostled awake by Stiles prying his legs apart and climbing to sit between them, his back resting against his chest comfortably, panting.

"You stink," Derek grimaced, squinting at the top of his boyfriend's head as he rubbed his eyes a little and realised that his skin was tingling a little from such direct exposure to the sun. It probably wasn't used to it. He made a mental note to put some sun cream on to cool himself down when he could be bothered to make Stiles get off him.

"Deal with it," Stiles replied, bringing Derek's left hand up to his mouth and pressing an affectionate kiss to the back of it, moving it to rest softly on his abdomen where his racing heartbeat could be felt throughout the whole of his diaphragm.

"You're not supposed to be over doing it Stiles, you only got out of hospital three weeks ago," he scolded, swallowing to wet his dry mouth, reaching for his drink from the cooler with his free limb.

"I'm good, I would have stopped playing if it was too much. I just took a break to come and see my sourwolf boyfriend, aka newly appointed baseball wife. Are you going to start wearing garden hats and calling Lydia and Allison 'darling'?"

"Shut up if you know what's good for you," Derek replied, although there was no maliciousness in it, he simply shuffled to get more comfortable and wrapped his arms tighter around Stiles, pressing his lips to his temple and resting them there, watching Isaac wrestling with Scott and Allison kicking at Boyd's back, laughing as he ran around with her on his shoulders. Erica was trying out a new baseball move with Jackson – Derek was restraining from telling her to sit down and rest - and Lydia was still next to him, sunbathing religiously having taken off her top to reveal an expensive looking Dolce and Gabbana bikini.

They observed quietly, laughing when Peter jumped on Isaac and Scott, playfully tackling them both to the ground, pretend gnawing at Isaac's arm whilst Scott snapped gently for Peter's leg, missing every time.

"Having a good time?" Stiles teased. Derek rolled his eyes, tracing invisible random patterns over Stiles' hand, tickling the veins. He was still having issues letting Stiles leave the house alone, allowing him back to school was torture and he practically pined silently all day until he had his boyfriend safe where he could keep an eye on him. He had Erica, Isaac and Boyd texting him updates all through the day.

The alpha pack fiasco had been bloody, terrifying and traumatic for everyone. Stiles didn't have super fast healing powers, so the crushed ribs and torn ligament in his right leg had put him in a hospital bed for an entire fortnight.

Derek had literally ripped apart the guy who had hurt Stiles. As in, torn out guts, wide open throat, unrecognisable face type ripped apart. That had been a trigger he hadn't been aware had such a power over him. But nobody hurt Stiles. It was an understood thing in the pack. Their human. Anyone violating that, would die painfully and slowly and graphically. It would be the same with any of them.

The three weakened members left of the alpha pack had scrambled off with their tails between their legs after they had watched him do that, and that had been the end of a six month war between them. Fear and lack of numbers had made the enemy submit in the end. Not very satisfactory; killing was horrible, no matter who it was. But it had been necessary and Derek couldn't have refrained from murdering the man who injured Stiles even if he wanted to.

"It's not horrible," he sighed, chest relaxing as he took a deep breath in, inhaling the Stiles sent, still present underneath the yucky smell of sweat. He smelt of pack too. Mixes of everyone. Derek liked that more than he should for someone who was supposed to be considered emotionless and grumpy. It was true, he was very much enjoying the pack day out, even if he wasn't really doing anything. He loved these people whether he liked it or not, and seeing them happy and calm for the first time in over half a year wasn't exactly going to fill him with negative feelings.

"You're adorable when you're trying to keep up your rep," Stiles grinned, nuzzling his face closer to Derek's, turning his head to kiss him properly for a moment, before jumping up again, suddenly full of energy once more. Sometimes, Stiles was so collected, that Derek forgot he had an attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, although he flailed around and talked so much, that he was always reminded soon afterwards.

The game resumed some time later and Allison quickly re-took to the safety of her chair, engaging in a conversation with Lydia, occasionally including Lexi out of kindness. Around one in the afternoon, Lexi made a sweet tongued excuse, kissed Peter goodbye, and asked Derek to drive her home. He obliged, but remained silent the entire time, simply nodding at her when she waved at him. He really didn't like talking to anyone who wasn't officially pack. He never had done really, even when he was a kid. His trust issues had never begun with Kate, he'd just been a very suspicious child.

When he returned to the field, it was still only 2:30 and having had a barbecue for lunch (Scott had NOT been allowed near the flames) everyone was well fed, fuelled up, and ready for more sunbathing or game playing.

Lydia was on her feet when he sat back down however, and was taking a picture of Peter, Scott, Boyd and Stiles posing ridiculously like they belonged to the cast of a really cheesy action film. Lydia was rolling her eyes, a smile on her perfect lips as she pressed the capture button. Derek realised that this was too good to be true. There was no way, that after the hell that had been his life since the age of sixteen, this could be his reality. Three weeks after a six month battle with a practically unbeatable bunch of werewolves intent on getting their territory, and this was actually happening.

A flash of red flickered menacingly across his mind's eye, and he flinched slightly, body tensing up. He forced himself to look as discreet as possible, but Erica was already climbing across a dozing Allison, over Lydia's empty chair, and into Derek's lap. He let out a rattily breath before he allowed her to curl up against him, golden blonde hair shielding her face. Erica Reyes. His second beta. Confident, funny, strong willed, feisty with wicked claws and a glare that could sink a million ships. But she was also frightened and soft and compassionate and young. She was easily misguided in certain situations, and was prone to acting up when she had no one to take her self-frustration out on.

The issue with pack dynamics, was that not even the alpha could hide when they were feeling ill or down or broken. Derek was content, he was. But there were moments that would haunt him forever, times in his mind that would always hurt so badly it took his breath away. There would always be nightmares and stories that he could never tell to anyone. But these moments did affect him sometimes, and his pack knew almost immediately when that was the case. The others were out on the field having fun, they were distracted, and that was a good thing. But Erica wasn't quite there yet, she was still healing and she needed her alpha as much as her alpha needed her back.

He could smell the aches and stings flowing off her and he sighed, laying his fingers gently over her left arm and closing his eyes, drawing the pain out through her veins into his, letting it drain him slightly.

"You're such a big teddy sometimes," she chuckled meekly into his t-shirt and he rolled his eyes again, taking his hand away, breaking the connection when it got to be a little too much for him. She felt calmer, so he relaxed a little more, leaning his cheek against her head.

The game went on for another three hours and eventually, Scott, Stiles and Peter won against Jackson, Boyd and Isaac. There was a brief tackling match where they argued about how Jackson could in fact kick everyone's ass, he was just having an 'off day' and Lydia dragged him away to make out whilst Derek lifted Erica off him, allowing her to take up his chair, and he lit a fire. The sun began to set and hoodies went on, as they really broke into the beers. It was ridiculous how much a werewolf had to consume to get drunk, but Erica and Isaac were most certainly up for testing it apparently. Derek didn't even know how they had this much alcohol, there was no one apart from him and Peter who were overage. Oh well, then it was settled. Peter.

"You're such a responsible adult," Derek scoffed at his uncle, watching Scott grinning dazedly at Allison... more than usual anyway. And Stiles was definitely laughing a little too loud. Lydia, of course, was perfectly fine after like six beers; stupid fierceness and unnatural tolerance. He wished it stretched to her temper, man that girl could scream.

"Oh c'mon, they're old enough to deal with it now, give them some credit. Besides... Erica made me," Peter coughed quietly. Derek let out a small bark of laughter, nodding and shaking his head.

"Of course she did," he chuckled, leaning back against the transporter beside him, swigging his own drink. A lot had gone on between Peter and Derek over the recent two years. Peter had killed Laura in order to become alpha and get revenge on Kate, Derek had killed Peter to get revenge for Laura and become the alpha, Peter had come back to life with questionable intentions and had hung around like a bad smell. But, like all bad smells, he sort of faded to become one with the familiar scents that occupied pack territory. Derek was not a forgiving person, he never had been which was why he had suffered guilt and anger for so long before gaining a new pack; but Peter was his Uncle, his only blood family left, and he had lost his wife and unborn child in that fire, he had suffered just as much as Derek had. And Derek had caused that. It was Derek's fault. He knew that, he thought about it every day.

He wouldn't, couldn't hate Peter forever. Especially when he was well aware that it should probably be the other way around.

"Your mother would be proud of you by the way, all of this, it's more than I could ever have imagined for you"

"This is why I hate social outings, it makes people... emotional," Derek grumbled. Peter laughed, rolling his eyes.

"You always were a moody kid, we could never get you to talk to anyone" Peter remarked. It was all very simple between the two of them. They were related, they dealt with an external problem as the eldest members between them if it could be fixed without getting the rest of the pack involved, and occasionally Peter would advise him if Stiles wasn't around.

"Yeah well, humans are mean and dangerous and stupid and they shouldn't be trusted," Derek huffed, taking a sip of the beer he was slowly working his way through.

"Stiles is human"

"That's different"

"Of course it is," Peter replied sarcastically, smirking to himself.

They didn't say anything else, Derek considered the conversation at an end. Stiles was different. He was a cheesy grin amongst thousands of cynical and pessimistic faces and Derek didn't care how corny that sounded. Stiles was special, and he was another thing on the list of things Derek didn't deserve, but, once again, Derek didn't care. He loved the kid, that was one of the only things in his fucked up life that he was really sure of; it was terrifying and it made Derek ratty and uncomfortable and distant sometimes, but it was damn true.


End file.
